


It Had Started With Towels

by brinshannara



Series: Sanvers Prompt Fics [2]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-11
Updated: 2018-01-11
Packaged: 2019-03-03 09:53:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13338759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brinshannara/pseuds/brinshannara
Summary: A prompt fic forWidget, who sent me this prompt:Maggie shares a wellworn picture of her beloved Abuelita with Alex (it shows two virtually identical faces, dimples and all, and the only difference is their ages) and Maggie tells how she snuck back into her parents house after they kicked her out to claim it. You can make it as angsty or not, as you like, but definitely let Alex have the realisation that this is almost certainly what Maggie will look like in the decades to come.





	It Had Started With Towels

**Author's Note:**

> Set after 2x19 but before 2x22.

For weeks, at Alex’s behest, Maggie had been moving bits and pieces of her possessions over to Alex’s. It had started with towels, of all things.

“You need more towels,” Maggie had smiled at her, coming out of the bathroom, with one wrapped around her torso and one wrapped around her head.

Alex had sighed. “You use them up two at a time! If you just used them one at a time like a normal person, I wouldn’t need more towels,” she had pointed out.

Maggie had laughed as she’d walked up to the bedroom area and pulled her overnight bag up on to the bed to pull clothes out from it. “It’s not optional, babe,” she’d commented, digging through her bag. “Have you seen how much hair I have? I wring it out and it’s practically like watching Niagara Falls.”

“You do have a point,” she’d conceded.

“Ugh, I forgot my t-shirt,” Maggie had muttered. “Can I borrow one of yours again, please?”

“You don’t need to sleep in a t-shirt, you know,” Alex had grinned from her position on the couch.

That had gotten Maggie’s attention. “Oh no?” She’d turned around and raised an eyebrow.

“No,” Alex had said. She had left the couch and pulled off her own pajamas along the way to the bed. “See?”

Maggie had smiled and dropped her towels to the floor. “Oh, I think I do see,” she’d said, crawling into bed with Alex.

The next morning, Alex had taken her shower without thinking about it and realized, belatedly, that no towels remained in the bathroom. She had then realized that her last two towels that weren’t in the laundry hamper were likely sitting in a damp heap where Maggie had dropped them the night before.

Dripping wet and completely naked, Alex Danvers had stalked out of the bathroom, nearly slipping on the wooden floor. Sure enough, the towels in question had been at the foot of the bed, not even remotely dry. She’d sighed and picked up the driest of the two and had awkwardly dried herself. If you could even call it that.

It was a mild frustration, to be sure, and Alex wasn’t really complaining about spending so much time with Maggie, but there had to be some changes, she’d decided. So, that morning, over breakfast, she’d brought it up.

“Uh, so, uh, yeah, the whole towel problem…”

Maggie had paused in her sipping of her coffee. “What about it?”

“I had to dry myself off using a damp towel that you used last night.”

“Oops,” Maggie had said, “sorry, I should have hung them up or something.”

“Well,” Alex had said, with a smile, “part of that’s my fault, I guess. I just distracted you too well.”

“Oh, yes, yes you did,” she’d grinned.

Alex had paused, then, unsure how to move the conversation forward.

Maggie had tilted her head to the side. “What is it?”

“Do you want to bring some of your stuff over?” she’d finally blurted. “I mean, we spend almost every night together and it’s almost always here and—”

Maggie had smiled. “Alex, I would love to. That would be okay?”

She’d sighed in relief. “It would be amazing. You could bring your towels, for one,” she’d laughed.

“I will bring over every towel I own tonight,” she had promised.

Ever since then, Alex would come home from work occasionally only to notice a small change to her apartment. She delighted in them. It started with towels, of course. Alex also gave Maggie two drawers in the chest she kept in the closet and she’d given her some closet space as well. Clothes quickly filled up the spaces over the following days.

Some less practical items also found their way to Alex’s from Maggie’s. In particular, bonsai trees. Two of them appeared one day, joining the third that Alex had gotten Maggie for Valentine’s Day, which Maggie had insisted they keep at Alex’s. Another day, it was a blanket that appeared on the back of the couch. One evening, Alex discovered a small collection of cookbooks had made a home on the far left side of her kitchen counter.

It was ridiculously domestic and she was loving every minute of it.

Alex walked into her apartment one evening and was moderately surprised not to see Maggie there yet. Maggie had texted earlier to say that she would pick up dinner for them from a nearby restaurant, so Alex assumed that she’d do it on her way home. It wasn’t until she sat down on the couch that she discovered yet another new addition to what was rapidly becoming their shared home, even though Maggie technically hadn’t moved all the way in, yet. A framed photograph had appeared on the end table by the couch. Apparently, Maggie had been home before going to get the food.

At a glance, it was obvious that the photo hadn’t been treated well over the years. One corner was missing, there were a couple of creases through it and it was severely faded. Yet the photograph captivated her because she could swear it was of Maggie in her sixties and Maggie as a child. She blinked. The woman in her sixties, with greying hair and soft lines on her face, resembled her girlfriend so very much that she could have easily thought it was Maggie herself without a closer examination. The child, though, that was definitely Maggie. Alex could tell by the impish grin and the sparkle in her eye that came through even in a decades-old photograph. She was maybe eleven or twelve here, Alex guessed.

Maggie was resting her head on the woman’s left shoulder, her right arm flung around to hold her at the right shoulder. The position put them cheek to cheek and both were smiling a near-identical smile as they gazed at the camera. The woman had to be Maggie’s _abuelita_ , Alex deduced. There wouldn’t be anyone else who resembled Maggie so much. Their eyes were the same shape and colour, both had the same, lush, thick mane of hair. They even both had dimples, which prominently showed when they both smiled.

She looked over at Maggie’s _abuelita_ and a thought occurred to her — this was very well what Maggie would look like, thirtyish years from now. She moved her eyes across the lines of the older woman’s face and realized that even her wrinkles were likely similar ones to the ones Maggie would probably develop. A worry line here, a laugh line there. Alex had already seen evidence of where the wrinkles would eventually develop and, from what she could tell, they would be much the same.

The door opened and Maggie entered, carrying two large bags from their favourite Chinese restaurant.

“Oh, hey, you’re home!” Maggie exclaimed. “Sorry, there was a crazy line or I’d have had this all set out for you.” She put the bags down on the counter and closed and locked the door.

“Hey, that’s fine,” she said. She held up the frame. “Maggie, this is a beautiful photo.”

Her girlfriend took a breath and nodded. She took off her leather jacket and hung it up in the closet. “It’s me and my _abuelita_ , my dad’s mom. I was thirteen when it was taken,” she explained, coming over to the couch to sit down on Alex’s right.

“I thought you didn’t… Uh… have stuff. From, you know…”

“From before my parents kicked me out?” Maggie said, flatly.

Alex nodded.

Maggie took the frame from Alex and traced her fingers lightly across her grandmother’s face. “My _abuelita_ and I were really close when I was growing up,” she began. “My dad brought her to the United States as soon as he could. He became a citizen and submitted a petition on her behalf the very next day. Shortly after I was born, all the paperwork was finished and she was officially a permanent resident.”

Alex reached her right arm around the back of the couch and curled it around Maggie’s shoulders.

“So, _abuelita_ practically raised me, basically. She lived with us and took care of me so both of my parents could work. She’d pick me up from school, she’d help me with my homework, cook dinner…” Maggie smiled. “She was my favourite person in the whole world.”

Alex paused, wondering how to phrase things. “Is there a reason you didn’t stay with her instead of your aunt?”

Maggie inhaled sharply.

“You don’t, you know, have to answer, it’s okay,” Alex said, quickly. “I was just curious.” She pressed a kiss to Maggie’s cheek.

“No, no, it’s fine,” she said. “My _abuelita_ died a few months after this picture was taken.” She tightened her grip on it. “This was the last picture of us ever taken together.”

“I’m so sorry, Maggie,” Alex said, nuzzling her neck softly.

Maggie blinked rapidly, trying not to let herself cry. “It’s okay,” she said. “It’s better this way.”

“Better?”

“Well, she died without knowing I was gay, so…” She took a breath. “So she, uh… She was never ashamed of me like my parents were.” The tears she’d been holding back finally escaped.

“Oh, Maggie,” she whispered. “Maggie, no, no. Your _abuelita_ could never have been ashamed of you.”

She shrugged. “She was Catholic. Did her rosary daily.” She shook her head. “She thought the Pope could do no wrong. She’d go to church weekly. She’s the only reason I did my first communion and confirmation.” She took a breath. “No, she would have been horrified to know. So it’s better this way.” She nodded to herself and wiped away her tears.

“Look, I never knew her. I don’t know your family at all, so maybe I’m wrong, but, Maggie…” Alex fumbled for the words. “Maggie, if she was your favourite person, then she was a good person. Without a doubt.”

Maggie remained silent.

“And she might have had trouble with it, but she wouldn’t have… wouldn’t have done what your parents did. You were obviously important to her. Even in this photo, it’s clear how much she loved you.”

“You really think so?” Maggie asked, sounding terribly young.

“I really do,” she assured her.

“Maybe you’re right. I don’t know.” She sighed. “Either way, she was the most important person in my life.”

Alex nodded. “I wish I’d known my grandparents,” she said. “It sounds like it would have been wonderful to have a grandmother to talk to.”

Maggie smiled through her tears. “We talked about everything, Alex. We talked about school, sure, but also politics and Mexico and our family tree and bad _telenovelas_ and all kinds of stuff,” she said. “We’d talk for hours in the kitchen.” She sighed. “Some of the happiest moments of my life were in that kitchen.” She paused to collect herself and cleared her throat. “Anyway. You’re right, I don’t have much from before they kicked me out. But this,” she said, caressing the frame lightly with her fingertips, “this was important to me.”

“They gave it to you?” Alex asked.

“Not a chance,” Maggie grinned. “I broke in and stole it.”

“You did not!”

“I did too. They, uh… They took my keys when… you know. So I waited until I knew my aunt would be home for a few hours while my parents would be at work. I stole her copy of the house key off her keyring and I biked all the way to my parents’ house. The car wasn’t in the driveway, so I figured it was safe. I left my bike around the corner, just in case, and I made my way to the house.”

Alex listened, gently stroking Maggie’s hair. “That must have been hard.”

She nodded. “A little, yeah. It was still pretty raw, but I was angry, not sad. I just wanted my photo of _abuelita_ and I knew exactly where it was. So I walked up to the back door and slipped the key in the lock. I walked in like I had a thousand times before and went straight up to my room.” She paused and swallowed. “Or what had been my room. They had thrown out just about everything.”

“What?”

“My stuff, it was pretty much all gone. I don’t know what they did with it, if it was in a trash heap somewhere or if they’d given it to charity,” she said, her voice rough. “But it was basically all gone. Posters. Knickknacks. Books. All of my stuff. I was pretty panicked, thinking they’d also thrown out the photo.”

“Maggie, I’m so sorry. I can’t even imagine.”

She shrugged uncomfortably. “Anyway,” she continued, “there were some papers left on the desk. Stuff that I guess they wanted to hold on to. It wasn’t anything personal of mine or anything. But there was this picture. It was just sitting there with all the papers and a couple of other photos I guess they thought they’d keep. So I took it. I didn’t take anything else. Just this. I had to fold it in half to put it in my back pocket,” she said, explaining one of the creases, her finger sliding down over the fold, on top of the glass. “I got back to my aunt’s and put the key back in the same place on her key chain and hid the picture in my room.”

“Did they ever find out?”

“My aunt asked me that night if I’d been out to the house and I lied. So I guess they noticed it was missing.” She leaned over Alex and placed the frame back on the end table. “But I don’t think they could ever prove I’d taken it.” She pulled back and looked at the photo with a certain amount of satisfaction. “That picture has been with me through a lot. I hope it’s okay I brought it,” she said.

“Are you kidding?” Alex exclaimed. “It’s so okay.” She gently kissed Maggie. “I am thrilled that you keep bringing pieces of yourself here.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she said. “This has felt like our apartment more and more ever since you brought the towels over.” She grinned.

“It has, hasn’t it?” Maggie asked, leaning into Alex’s shoulder.

Alex swallowed, feeling nervous about what she wanted to say next. “We could, like, uh, make it official?” she asked. “If you want, of course.”

Maggie turned her face up. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. If you, you know, if you want,” she stammered.

“I want. Do you?”

Her heart nearly burst with adoration for the woman in her arms. “Yes,” she smiled and bent to kiss Maggie gently. “I love you, Maggie.”

“I love you, too.”

They sat there for a moment, enjoying the quiet comfort of what was going to be their apartment. Alex’s eyes found the photo again. She let herself linger on the image of Maggie’s grandmother and smiled, making a note to herself to take a photo of Maggie thirty years down the line.


End file.
